


SNIPS

by thoughtsdemise



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Bondage, Dominance-Submission, Dry Humping, Mech/Mech, Sassy Sub, Sleazy Naiveté, Spanking, Spark Play, Spark Sex, Warped Reality (AU), former mentor/student relationship, shy dom, tactile play, tarn’s voice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 14:27:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11579931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/pseuds/thoughtsdemise
Summary: Snippets of kinky tales.





	SNIPS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrest/Pharma: Pharma tries to act as the dominant with Tyrest, but the chief justice is quick to put the unruly CMO in his place.

Tyrest leans against the pillows on his bed, his optics raking the closed posture of Pharma.  He grins as those lovely wings flick in time with the doctor’s irritation meandering through the electromagnetic field.  The pout to a mouth that held as sharp tongue was doing all kind of wonderful things to Tyrest’s engine; however, he was to play the submissive tonight at Pharma’s pleading request.  But it wasn’t hard for the chief justice to see that Pharma didn’t have a lot of experience in the role.   _ Hm, perhaps I need to schedule another session with Lockdown on display for my little tool.   _ Tyrest shifts his lower frame upward to unseat Pharma from straddling his abdominal armor.  He bares his denta in a challenging smirk which earns a sharp smack of the electro-crop Pharma held.

He eyes the line on his chest before his optics swing to Pharma whose bore a look of worry.  “Mm,” he praises, “that’s good, my little tool.”  He leans forward as much as the arm restraints will allow.  He makes note of the way Pharma’s optics follow his glossa as he likes the line of his lips in a tease.  He watches Pharma press the handle of the electro-crop to his lips.  The medic’s own glossa flicking out to tease a digit joint.

Slowly Tyrest raises his knees to create a cradle for Pharma to lean back against.  Pharma obeys the unspoken command and rests backward.  Tyrest watches the medic’s wings relax, the tension leaving their line.  Tyrest reclines against the pillows again.  He lifts his hips to invite Pharma to relax against him more fully.  Perhaps being bound and unable to touch his little tool would be an interesting enough change of play for Pharma who had indirectly hinted about that he had wanted to try to the dominant’s role.  Pharma never really spoke directly about his bedroom desires unless on the cusp of a frustrated overload, at least not to Tyrest but then Lockdown was a wealth of information for the chief justice.

“Open your chest, my little tool,” he commands and smiles warmly as he is obeyed without a cripe or mutter.

Watching Pharma fold apart the panels of his chest armor never fails to amuse Tyrest.  The doctor was shy about revealing his spark until he was having his circuitry stimulated, then he couldn’t pop that last barrier fast enough.  Tyrest’s frame vibrates in a pleased rumble.  He smiles approvingly at Pharma as the electro-crop is shut off and set to the side, leaving both of Pharma’s hands free.  Hands that settles obediently on blue hips waiting for their master’s command.

“Do you wish to touch yourself, little tool?”  Tyrest hoods his optics and dims their glow.  He can feel the anticipation coiling in Pharma’s electromagnetic field.  It rubs against his greedily like an cyber feline looking for strokes and attention.  Tyrest lowers the pitch of his vocalizer, knowing what it was going to do to his flyer.  “And what would you do if I allowed you to touch?”

The subtle shift of wings and the way blue digits unconsciously stroked at the metal beneath them made Tyrest wish that Pharma had stuck to his earlier wish of wanting to dominate the chief justice.  Tyrest resettles himself to release the small tension in his spinal strut.   _ Perhaps another day _ , he promises himself silently, for now he would enjoy the show.  “We'll get to it then,” he snaps, making Pharma jump.  His chief medical officer is quick to dig digits into familiar circuitry.

Pharma’s digits lace around and through delicate mechanisms.  Tyrest chuckles as Pharma makes his digits dance.  If he were honest with himself, Tyrest knew there was nothing quite like watching a highly trained medical professional work himself over.  They always knew where to touch to light the world on fire, from a slow burn that ate the processor bit by bit until there was no corner of it left untouched by pleasure and desire to a lightening fast fry that blew complete neural nets.

Tyrest raised his knees higher by pressing the tips of his peds into the bed when he saw Pharma begin to fall back.  He refused to miss the show.  While he watched the medic’s digits work, Tyrest’s main focus was the spark light that flared and tried to escape the confines of its chamber.  He added a note to the video file he had started recording.  ‘Add the calculation of pleasure/pain into the formula for the kill switch.’

“Pharma.”  The doctor stops jacking himself off to center his optical feed on Tyrest.  The designation always drew Pharma’s enter focus to Tyrest no matter the situation.  The judge leans his helm forward and opens his mouth.  “Let me taste it.”

Tyrest hears the whine in the glitching vocalizer as Pharma scrambles to position himself so his open chest cavity laid in alignment for Tyrest to stimulate the medic’s spark.  The small chamber door cycles open to bare the spark.

“Lower, my little tool.”

A tendril of spark energy lances the tip of Tyrest’s glossa.  He vents a blast of heated and hears his designation given in praised begging.  He circles the tendril, letting it snake and weave over the chemo-fores peppering his glossa.  He neither retreats or advances as he enjoys the tingling.  The feel of digits petting and stroking his wings in encouragement do nothing to sway him to jab his glossa into the center of spark shell.  He exvents another blast of heated air making Pharma shiver and try to press closer.  Still Tyrest stays his course.  His chief medical officer had already given up control, and he was going to enjoy making his little tool squirm and beg until he was finished with him.


End file.
